The Haunted - Jessica Verday [124]
Footsteps behind me made me turn around, and an old woman dressed in black came walking across the graveyard. She stopped at the row of tombstones before Caspian’s, and nodded to me. I nodded back. And decided it was time to go.
Running my finger over that C, one last time, I whispered, “I love you,” and prepared to leave. As I passed by the woman, she looked up at me.
“Remember, child,” she said, “you’re never alone.”
“You’re right,” I replied, looking Caspian directly in the eye. “I’m not alone.”
˜ ˜ ˜
We left West Virginia to head for home, as Ben talked on and on about some new car project he had planned now that he’d visited the junkyard. I had no idea what the difference was between an alternator and a carburetor, and I didn’t really care to find out. But Ben was happy to try to explain.
Caspian kept looking out the windows the whole way home, and I distracted myself by talking about Kristen. We were only ten minutes from the house when I pulled out my phone to call Mom and Dad. But they didn’t pick up.
I was about to try Mom’s cell when Ben pulled into our driveway.
“Thanks for going with me, Ben,” I said, when he came to a stop. “Really. You have no idea how awesome that was.” I wanted to hug him or something, but I didn’t know how awkward that would be.
He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. “I’m glad you asked me to go, Abbey.” His eyes flashed to the clock. “I better get going, though. I was starting to feel pretty tired back there. I’ll catch ya later?”
“Yeah, sure.” I hopped out and grabbed my suitcase, briefly holding the door open for Caspian. “Don’t fall asleep on the way to your house.” Ben laughed. “I won’t.” And with a final honk he drove away.
I glanced over at Caspian, trying to keep it discreet, certain that Mom was going to come flying out the front door any minute. “I’m gonna go in and greet the parentals,” I said quickly.
“I’m sure they’re just bursting with curiosity.”
“I’ll wait in the backyard,” he replied. “When you have a moment, slip out for a walk.” I nodded, then wheeled my suitcase up the front walkway. The door was unlocked, and I pushed it open, leaving my luggage near the stairs. “Mom, Dad,” I called. “I’m home!” Silence greeted me.
I walked through the kitchen, peeking into the living room and dining room along the way.
They weren’t in either of those rooms.
“Mom? Dad? Are you guys upstairs?” I yelled. “There better not be some type of let’s-get-freaky-now-that-our-kid-is-gone alone time going on here! If I find chocolate syrup anywhere other than the fridge, I swear, I’m moving out.”
Taking the stairs two by two, I sprinted to the top. Mom and Dad’s door was closed, which was always a good thing… but mine was open. I know I shut that before I left. If Mom thinks she can go in there and mess with my stuff while I’m gone, she is sadly mistaken.
I pushed my door open all the way, getting ready to assess the damage…
And stopped cold.
The overhead lights were off, but dozens of candles covered the desk, my nightstand, the fireplace mantel… Long shadows leapt and danced along the walls, their tiny flames flickering wildly as if a sudden gust of wind had blown through the room. What the hell is going on… ?
I took a step closer and felt my eyes widen. Too wide; it felt like they were bulging out of place and would pop out at any second.
My bed was littered with roses. Long-stemmed, heavy-blossomed, bloodred roses. They covered the entire surface in a massive heap, dozens upon dozens of them. There was something vaguely familiar about how they were arranged, almost like a bunch of… funeral sprays.
And stretched out among them, in the center of the bed, arms crossed in a classic funeral pose was… Caspian?
I screamed. My stomach twisted violently, and I knew I was going to throw up.
Then his eyes popped open. “This is how you like ’em, right?” My heart stopped as I recognized that voice. Vincent.
He sat up slowly, uncrossing his arms, and the likeness